Sprite

Suddenly Neistah grabbed Norah’s hand and peered at it through narrowed eyes. “At the camp, you didn’t have this.” He ran his fingertips over her sensitive webbing, and Norah jerked her hand away.

Her face reddened. “Nobody knows about my mutation,” she said. “Except Roselle—and my parents. If I want to keep it a secret, I can’t show my webbing. It comes back whenever I go in the water.”

Neistah stared at her aghast. “You cut it?”

“I don’t want to,” Norah replied in a small voice. “I have to.”

“Humans.” Neistah wheeled away in disgust. “Afraid of their own shadow.” He turned back, a cruel smile lighting his features. “You could never be one of my sprites,” he taunted her. “My sprites accept who they are.”

Norah paled. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come,” she murmured.

Waves of distress swamped Neistah. “Stop that!” he snapped, but he relented. At least the girl’s parents hadn’t killed her at birth, like so many of them did if the mutations were very obvious. “Nobody knew you were a mutant?”

Norah nodded, and tried to rein in her scattered thoughts. She hadn’t realized he would pick up on her feelings as well. “I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore,” she sighed. “We’re in the forest now. I can never go back home.” Her eyes pierced his in a candid green gaze. “Will you at least take the others to a changeling village?”

The girl had surprised Neistah once again. He hadn’t meant she wasn’t welcome. “Not all the forest changelings are my sprites,” he said quietly, as close to an apology as he was willing to get. “I will show you the way to one of the hidden villages.” His mouth quirked up in a quick grin. “Perhaps they can teach you how to live in harmony with the forest, so you’ll stop bringing the hunters down on us.”

He dove neatly into the river, leaving Norah to follow as she would. At the edge of her camp, he put his hand on her arm. “Show me,” he said, and watched as she retrieved her small jewelry box from under a rock where she had concealed it. He shuddered when she made the first cut, unconsciously clenching and unclenching his fists as if he could feel each swipe of the razor.

Patrick was the first to notice them as they walked into the camp. He jumped to his feet, glaring suspiciously at Norah and Neistah both. “Who’s this?” he demanded. “Where were you?”

Roselle yawned and sat up slowly. She gasped when she saw Neistah. “You! You’re the one that was with Will!” Her eyes flew from Norah to Neistah and back again. “Are you a sprite?” she asked.

“Will’s Sprite!” Norah finally made the connection. “You’re Will’s Sprite, aren’t you?”

Neistah chuckled. “Will is one of my sprites, not the other way around. I thought one of you was Datro’s Sprite.” Neistah found it interesting how Roselle immediately glanced at Norah before glancing away again. “I see now I was mistaken.” His gaze lingered on Lou, who had awakened and immediately scurried to Roselle, staring at Neistah with wide eyes. “I was looking forward to meeting her.”

“Her?” Patrick questioned, glancing suspiciously at Roselle. “Datro’s Sprite got us into this mess.”

“And whose fault was that?” Roselle countered. “We got you out, didn’t we?” She stopped glaring at Patrick long enough to turn an imploring smile on Neistah. “Are you Will’s Sprite? Do you know where he is? Can you take us to him?”

Neistah grinned maliciously. “The way Datro’s Sprite took changelings to the forest? I can do that, if that’s what you are asking. But you may not find what you seek.”

“I knew it!” Patrick scowled. “I never trusted that—girl. You’re saying Datro’s Sprite isn’t one of you?” He stared accusingly at the three girls in front of him.

“Oh, Datro’s Sprite is definitely one of you,” Neistah replied obliquely, enjoying the game.

“That’s enough!” Norah said. ‘That’s enough,’ she repeated in her mind. “Will you take us to a mutant village, preferably the one where Will lives?”

Neistah grinned to hear Norah’s command. She learned quickly. “No,” he answered, relishing the dismay that swept through the girl. “But I will tell you how to find the nearest village. Your Will is not there, but someone will know how to find him. You have traveled far off the main trails, which is good in that you managed to avoid the hunters who are tracking you, but unfortunate, as it will take you a few more days to get to the village. You.” He beckoned Patrick to come closer, which the young changeling did after a moment’s hesitation. “Can you scent water?” Patrick nodded. “About a half-day’s travel in that direction is a very large lake. Circle it to the left, not the right, if you don’t want to get stuck in a swamp, and on the far side, you’ll see three mountains. Head for the smallest one. Keep to the rocky trails as much as you can, and don’t light any more fires! The hunters have been following you for days. Once you reach the other side of the mountain, one of my sprites will find you and guide you to their village.”

As Neistah spoke quietly with Patrick, Roselle sidled up to Norah and whispered, “Does he know about you?”

Norah nodded glumly, not the response Roselle expected. “He says he’s not the same. I asked him.”

“Nonsense.” Roselle shook her head. “He looks—very similar.” She surveyed Neistah with a critical eye. “Almost as pretty as you, too.”

Norah stared at her.

“Norah.” Neistah drew her away from her friend, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “While you’re both lovely, I fear I must leave you in Patrick’s hands for now. There is something I must do before we meet again.” He bowed mockingly, leaving Norah torn between embarrassment and indignation.

Neistah made his escape from the encampment while Norah was still trying to decipher his intentions. Norah confused him. He couldn’t think rationally about what she was or was not in this place. He needed to go home, among his own kind, his true kind, to remind himself that he was not in any way like these mortal beings. Not even her.

“You like him.” Roselle helped stuff their few belongings into Norah’s bag as they prepared to break camp. She glanced at Norah out of the corner of her eye. Norah still stared at the spot where Neistah had disappeared into the woods.

“I—I don’t know. He is like me. We swam together in the river. He says he’s not, but---Roselle, will you tell Patrick I’m going with Neistah? I’ll catch up to you at the changeling village in a few days. I have to talk to him.”

“Hurry, before he gets too far ahead,” Roselle urged, and Norah sprinted in the direction Neistah had taken. “Wait! You forgot your . . . .” Roselle pulled the small jewelry box from the bottom of Norah’s big bag. “Oh well, I guess you don’t need it,” she murmured to herself, stuffing it back inside the bag.

Norah ran, listening with her new-found skills for any stray thoughts from Neistah, but it was as if he had disappeared completely. She pressed on, worried as she could find no sign of him. How had he gotten so far ahead of her? Dejected, she leaned against a tree to catch her breath. As she lowered her head, she noticed a solitary red flower growing a few feet away, near a jumble of old stones. Her breath caught. She pushed herself up and knelt down next to the red flower, cradling it gently in her fingers. Was this a coincidence? There had been a red flower just like this at the factory, where Will and Neistah had disappeared in a shimmery fog. All she saw here was the flower. No shimmer.

Norah blinked. The air did seem different. Not exactly a shimmer, but thicker than it should be. She squinted, trying to see what was different about it, and realized that she couldn’t see clearly at all. No, that wasn’t right. Norah moved forward, one step at a time, and suddenly the air was clearer than ever, even the leaves on the trees stood out as if etched in gold. She whirled around, and the tree she had leaned against was gone. In panic, Norah began to run back in its direction, thinking that maybe, like last time, she would eventually come out where she had started. Because this was just like that other time, the time she had seen the golden woman.

Running blindly, Norah didn’t see the figure who dropped down from the trees into her path until he grabbed her around the waist. ’Where are you going in such a hurry?’ A warm voice spoke close to her ear, as Norah struggled to get loose. ‘Oh, I’m sorry!’ Suddenly the arms that held her disappeared, and a flustered young—sprite—regarded her with honey amber eyes. He resembled Neistah somewhat, although his long straight hair matched his eyes. But his hands and feet were webbed, and he had fins that sprouted from his neck and ankles, just like Neistah. Just like she did herself in the water. He smiled in apology, and spoke out loud. “Have you been to the mortal realm? Is that why you’re dressed like that? I’m Breyan. Won’t you tell me your name?”

“My name? It’s Norah. Where am I?” Norah asked, once the rush of fear subsided.

’Here,’ Breyan sent with a quizzical smile. ‘I haven’t seen you before. Would you care to swim with me?’

‘Swim?’ Norah tried to answer in the same manner, as Breyan seemed to expect it. ‘No, I have to get back. I’m looking for someone.’

‘Don’t go. Stay with me. Play. I may even let you weave me a garment of deepest red ’ Breyan’s eyes sparkled, and he took her hands in his, gasping in shock when he finally realized she had no webbing between her fingers. ‘What happened to you?’

“Breyan.” The audible voice shattered the stillness and broke Norah’s concentration. She snatched her hands back as the golden woman she had seen once before approached them. Like before, she spoke out loud. “Leave the girl be. She is yet a child, and too young for a dalliance with you.”

Breyan backed away, bowing his head deferentially. ‘As you wish, Anais.’ He bowed to Norah, too, and grinned. ‘Come find me when you are old enough.’ Laughing aloud, he bounded lightly into the woods, leaving Norah alone with the golden woman.

“You must be uncomfortable in those.” Anais, whose hair shone green when the light hit it, indicated Norah’s clothes. The woman herself wore nothing but her hair, and on her it somehow seemed exactly right. Like Neistah and Breyan, she also had delicate fins on her neck and webbing between her fingers. Norah was beginning to doubt that it was a mutation at all.

She led Norah to a green pond and bade her take off her boots at least. “It’s all right,” she assured Norah. “I sent Breyan away. You can leave your mortal clothing here while you swim.”

“But I can’t!” Norah protested. ‘I can’t,’ she tried, speaking mind to mind. ‘I have to go back.’

The golden woman smiled gently. ‘Neistah will come to me eventually. You will find him quickest if you wait here. In the meantime . . . .’ She swept her arm out to encompass the pond.

Norah’s eyes widened. “You knew I was following Neistah?” She lapsed back into speech.

‘I knew that one day you would find your way back here,’ Anais replied. ‘And my son is often in your realm these days. I thought that sooner or later you two would meet.’

Her son? The golden woman didn’t look old enough to have a son! Norah pushed that thought aside, hoping that the woman hadn’t caught it. She still wasn’t too sure about this mind-speech thing. ’What do you mean—my realm? Breyan said it too—he called it the mortal realm. What is this place then?’

Anais glanced pointedly at Norah’s still fully clothed body, before she gracefully slipped under the still green water of her pond. ‘You know,’ her mind-voice came back. ‘You know what we are.’

Norah was afraid she did know. Her childhood was filled with stories of Sprites, graceful, capricious creatures with fins and webs, who cavorted in quiet pools just like this one. In her Papa’s books, the Sprites were always green. Norah stood, stripping off her clothes in a moment of quiet decision. She slid into the water with a sigh. She wasn’t green, nor were Neistah or Anais, but they both had hints of green in their hair and skin. If she wasn’t exactly one of them, she wasn’t that far off.

She explored her new world in silence, and Anais let her have time to herself. The water shone with an inner light of its own that Norah found intriguing. She flitted from one corner of the pond to another, and never seemed to run out of places to swim. In her peripheral vision, she could see Anais swimming nearby, but she sensed no other sprites. ‘Am I really one of you?’ she asked when she was ready to face the truth. ‘Neistah said I’m not.’

‘You are what you were born to be,’ Anais sent enigmatically. ‘You are both your mother’s daughter and your father’s.’

That puzzled Norah. ’My parents are human,’ she sent back.

‘So it would seem,’ Anais agreed. She swam alongside Norah, and reached out a webbed hand to touch Norah’s hair as it streamed out behind her, not nearly as long as Anais’ but long enough to leave a swirling trail in the glowing water. ’Red,’ she observed thoughtfully. ‘From your mother? Perhaps there was some of our blood there all along.’ Anais darted away, to land on the shore in a diamond sparkle of water droplets. ‘There’s someone I want you to meet,’ she sent. ‘Take your ease while I am gone. I’ll set boundaries on this pond so that no one, not even Neistah, will disturb you until you are ready.’

Belatedly, Norah remembered her friends and hoped they were safely on their way to the changeling village. It all seemed so far away now. If what Anais had told her was correct, they really were far away, in another world.